Wonder Cookie
by hikachu
Summary: Hah! So today it's a cute cake print! Sequel to Strawberry Panties; written again for Small Bombs because I didn't want to make her cry.


Ange thinks that lately, she's beginning to understand her mother. And this, given her young age, isn't a good thing at all.

She has always loved her family more than anything – and she still does – but after a certain unexpected encounter a violent paradigm shift in her vision occurred, and suddenly, Ange can see how much of an idiot her father is, how her precious brother is nearly as stupid and just because she is the luckiest girl on the planet, her stalker's idiocy is even more painfully obvious than Rudolf's and Battler's combined together.

Which makes Ange wonder if in the end all men are morons.

"Aah… they most probably are. At least this means that it doesn't take much effort to manipulate them," Belphegor comments quietly.

"I don't care. I just don't want to deal with that guy anymore…"

"Why are you making cookies for him then?" Mammon asks with a frown.

Ange looks at her for a moment before shaking her head and concentrating again on the dough before her.

"Everyone is making cookies. Sensei told us to."

And it's true. The room is filled with boys and girls wearing boring aprons over boring uniforms, and it's a good thing that the Home Economics teacher isn't too strict, because in every other class the students would have already been reprimanded for chatting too much and working too little.

"But you said you are going to give them to him." Pouting.

"Only a few. I promised dad I'd bring home the cookies I made today because he wanted to try them and—Yes, yes, you can have them too, Mammon," she adds with a small smile. Mammon is her best friend and so easy to read at times…

In fact, the other's eyes sparkle and she even beams for a second—then she's scowling again, because a bunch of cookies isn't enough. Not when she could have that guy's share too.

"I still don't get why Ange-sama is giving her cookies to that weirdo. If you don't like him you could just spend all of your free time with us!"

"Just stop bothering her already!" Satan bellows, "I'm sure Ange-sama has her reasons. Maybe she wants to poison him—"

"Hey!" finally, Lucifer steps in, "Did you just imply that Ange-sama's cooking is terrible? Show more respect!"

"Unfortunately it's no secret that her skills in the kitchen are average at best," Beelzebub retorts with a sigh.

Pride stinging and fists clenched, Ange decides that the best course of action here would be to keep a straight face and end this argument over her culinary talent (or lack of thereof) as soon as possible. She coughs into her fist to get the sisters' attention and declares calmly: "I'm not doing it because I want to. I'm in debt to him and I don't like that."

The girls blink and then look at each other. Asmodeus opens and closes her mouth like a fish gasping for air and then. She squeals.

"Ange-samaaa! You should have said from the beginning that he was courting youuu!"

"W, What…?" Ange knows she's blushing and hates herself for it. Just not as much as she hates Amakusa right now. "It's not like that at all! I don't even know him—he's just bothering me—"

Belphegor raises an eyebrow. "Why are you giving him cookies then?"

"B, Because. It was raining the other day but I didn't bring an umbrella with me… and he walked me home. That's all."

"He was waiting for you?"

"Yes but that's not the—"

"Kyaaaah! I wish I could meet someone like him!"

"No, you don't, and today I'm going to tell him to forget about me anyway! This is just a matter of principle, nothing more…!"

"Uwaaan! I want Ange-sama's cookies and a guy that will walk me home too!"

"Ange-sama, even if you have a boyfriend now, you mustn't spend more time with him than you do with us!"

"I SAID IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!"

The sisters finally stop. Ange freezes.

Everyone in the room is staring at her. Even the teacher.

* * *

"These are…"

Amakusa is staring at the small, lacy bundle between his hands as if it were a gold ingot magically popped out of nowhere.

"… Cookies," Ange finishes for him, "I'm pretty sure this isn't the first time in your life that you see them."

The rather unintelligent look of awe disappears from his face at an almost terrifying speed and Amakusa's back to being the same conceited asshole she has met while waiting for Battler.

"Sure it isn't, but it is the first time I get cookies from such a cute little lady," he explains and _grins_.

That stupid grin. How nice would it be to punch him right in the mouth and see his teeth fall, Ange thinks. At least the guy would stop smiling as if he were the gods' greatest gift to women.

"Don't get any weird ideas, Amakusa: this is just for last time…" Silence. "… Because you…" The other blinks. Ah, so the bastard is going to make her say it. "This is to repay you for last time. For walking me home."

Ange can feel her cheeks heating up but at least she can be sure that her expression hasn't changed. As long as she doesn't advert her gaze, he won't win – not on every front.

She most certainly doesn't expect the other to chuckle. Which he does.

"Ah then… in spite of that everlasting frown you really are a good girl, Ange-san," he says. "You should try to smile more often though, or in a few years it'll look completely awkward when you do."

She bites back a 'mind your own business' and said frown deepens as she squints, searching for a deeper meaning to his words somewhere in his eyes or in the frustrating way he won't stop smiling.

"Everyone else would have thought that a 'thank you' was more than enough," he explains.

What is he trying to say? That if he gets any weird ideas after this it's her fault? Ange bites the inside of her cheek before replying: "It's only proper, besides, stop pretending you don't care. Nobody does anything for free."

Amakusa laughs. "Maybe." The way he looks at her as he speaks isn't stupid at all. It makes her uncomfortable in a way that she can't describe. "I wasn't expecting this at all though! I guess I'm a pretty lucky guy, huh?" and he laughs again.

Right now, there is only one thing Ange wants more than anything in the world: getting away from this weirdo and going home.

However, in less than ten minutes, she finds herself sitting across from him. They're in a small café, cute and with a warm, relaxing atmosphere. Amakusa dragged her here somehow (she feels confused, her head hurts a little; the guy talks too much and too quickly). She's pretty sure that the tall, tall glass filled with ice-cream in front of her isn't her fault either.

Ange blinks. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"I'm pretty sure this isn't the first time in your life you see ice-cream," Amakusa mimics her. Her left eyebrow is twitching visibly, but her self-control is amazing.

"I'm not going to eat it."

"Ahhh, but why? Who doesn't like ice-cream? You shouldn't act like a bitter adult at your age."

Bitter adult? What is he talking about? … It doesn't matter at all. She won't get angry—no, maybe she is already angry, but she won't show it. Ange knows it would only amuse him, prove him right – though what is he actually trying to prove, she doesn't know.

"Or maybe you're on a diet?" he asks and seems genuinely surprised. "Girls nowadays are constantly obsessing over diets and their weight, but ah, someone like Ange-san is definitely more attractive."

She is so surprised by the statement that she doesn't even notice that she's blushing again.

"Are you trying to say that I'm fat, Amakusa…?" She doesn't even sound angry.

But Amakusa just stares at her and then laughs; he's so loud that several people turn around to look at him and the tip of Ange's ears turns red.

"Not at all. It's just that flat-chested girls aren't exactly my type." He hums pensively. "If you can't eat all the ice-cream, you could always feed me some—Hey! Where are you going?"

Of course he follows her again. Of course.

"Stop stalking me," she hisses and would just run away if it didn't mean that this idiot managed to make her lose her cool.

"I wouldn't need to stalk you, if you just accepted to go out with me!" Amakusa says this as though as there's nothing weird about the whole situation.

The other rolls her eyes. "… … … You could at least make an effort to hide the fact that you're doing something illegal."

"I couldn't lie to save my life," he explains with an exaggerated sigh, "but isn't that a good thing? It means that I would never, ever be able to cheat on you."

Ange, who is pretty sure that he _is_ lying anyway, massages her temples in an exasperated gesture: another five minutes with this guy and she will have to deal with the worst headache of her life. It doesn't help that the people in the street are staring at them as if this were some sort of lovers' quarrel.

"Where are we going now, Ange-san?"

"_We_ aren't going anywhere. I'm going home."

"Alriiiight then, I will walk you there," he decides, just like that, as if her opinion doesn't matter at all, and tries to take her bag. "I can carry it for you," he says with a chivalrous grin that makes Ange cringe.

"I don't need help and, Amakusa, stop acting like this. It's creepy."

Amakusa chuckles and says, alright alright; he surrenders and decides that this is a good moment to taste Ange's cooking. She decides that commenting on his lack of good manners would only backfire on her, so she ignores him.

She doesn't say anything even when he tells her that if she worked harder, she could become a good cook and a good wife. But the silence doesn't seem to trouble Amakusa.

"You know," he begins again; his voice is somehow softer now, "you should accept the help people offer you. Not always, of course, because it's good to learn and do things on your own… and I know you're a very proud little lady, but you are so young… If you don't rely on others at this age, you'll end up growing up into a twisted adult."

Ange's eyes widen and she thinks that this is weird, though she isn't sure if it's the good or the bad kind of weird. Her mother is proud of her independent attitude, but Rudolf often tells her things like this – or at least he tries to: her father is a self-assured and charismatic man, but he's terrible when it comes to expressing his feelings and concerns openly, especially with his children. Now, to hear these words from Amakusa…

"Talking like an old man at your age makes you sound ridiculous," is all she says before quickening her pace.

The other can guess, from the way she's trying to hide her face from him, that she's either smiling or blushing, and decides that that is enough for now: they spend the rest of their time together in silence.

When they are close enough to her home, Ange stops. She doesn't want her family seeing Amakusa walking her there again, especially not her dad or her brother: the last time, luckily, Battler wasn't home yet, but Rudolf – surprise surprise – was and the questions he had asked her (with a grin that was almost as annoying as Amakusa's _and_ overprotectiveness coating his voice) are something that Ange'd rather not experience again. (Yes, yes, it had been embarrassing, even though it shouldn't have been because there was no reason for it to be so.)

"Enough. You can go back home now." Ange doesn't even look at him as she says this. She sounds a bit tired and Amakusa smiles, biting into another cookie.

"Alright." His reply is unexpectedly peaceful. It's as though as he understands and that is a bit creepy, so Ange decides that it's better not to ask.

She simply nods and walks away and feels a bit like smiling. It's not that she likes him – he's so obnoxious and a stalker, who would? – but, maybe, just maybe, she feels a little grateful: not for the ice-cream she didn't eat or because he walked her home again, but for the words he offered her. And maybe, just maybe, Amakusa isn't so bad, today isn't so bad.

Except it takes one unexpected gust of wind to ruin everything.

First, Ange feels the draft.

Then, she hears his voice—

"Hah! So today it's a cute cake print!"

She freezes for a moment – in which her whole face turns as red as her hair – and when she can move again, she turns back and walks towards him.

There is only one thing Ange can do now. And she does it. Without the slightest hesitation.

"That was the Falcon Punch of love!" Amakusa shouts, laughing like a madman, as she walks away for the second time.

As she stomps her way home, Ange is too busy cursing mentally to remember what she should have never, ever forgotten in the first place. What she was supposed to do in order to make her life better, to make it normal again.

She never told Amakusa Juuza to forget about her.

**OMAKE**

That woman… There was no way Ange wouldn't recognize her.

_She_'s there and _she_'s leaving the apartment complex where Ange and her family live: as much as she hates admitting this, Amakusa was right. Hiding and avoiding a somewhat embarrassing meeting would probably be the wisest, most natural choice, but Ange has different plans.

This is the chance she was waiting for.

"Hello," she says flatly. With this girl standing in her way, Beatrice is forced to stop.

"Do I know you?" Her tone is as sweet as a spoonful of expired yogurt. Battler must really be a masochist. It most likely runs in the family.

Ange clicks her tongue. "You just spent the whole afternoon in my brother's room."

She has never seen an adult blush like that because of something she said.

"Y-You…"

"I'm not going to tell anyone. Actually… I just wanted to warn you." A sigh. "Unfortunately, he takes after our father…"

Ange's never been the vengeful type, but she can't help but grin a little when Battler comes home from school the following day, looking miserable and with a black eye.

Now they're even.

* * *

**note** the 'Falcon Punch of love' line was actually stolen from a friend, Pro, who used it to comment on a certain AmaAnge comic strip. I thought it was cute.


End file.
